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Author:

Johan du Preez

Created:

2015/08/23 03:11 PM

Stories, information and photos relating to personal experiences in the War In Angola.

This memoir deals with a specific time in my life when I stepped on a landmine in Angola in 1975, losing my right leg lower down below the knee. This happened when I was part of Operation Savannah, at the time a secret operation of the South African Defence Force.
The landmine incident itself is not the story. It merely serves to tie together some of my experiences before the incident in a country (Angola) at war with itself and some of my experiences afterwards as we, the casualties of this war together with those who took care of us, coped at 1 Military Hospital in Pretoria. In doing so, my aim was to recount a part of the Operation Savannah history that not many know about – the battle of the casualties of this war. At the same time I wanted to give recognition to those silent and unsung heroes of Operation Savannah, the medics.
Johan du Preez, July 2017
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I was the engineer troop commander when we advanced into Angola by road – destination Cela – in November ‘75. It was a mix of all sorts. All of us in green uniform. None of us were South Africans (of course!). No SA Army dog tags (only dog tags with our blood group on them). All markings referring to South Africa even scratched off our toothpaste tubes. And our Bibles. Do you remember the Bibles we received in Grootfontein (in Afrikaans, nogal) with those first pages where one normally reads where it had been printed, totally blank?

Hi JohanYou mentioned 1 Mil in your story. I was there 15th Nov 1975 spent 9 mths-also very secretive. Lost both my arms. You mention a Major Kruger -Social Welfare. She was a wonderful person. Would you by any chance know if she is still alive and if so, how to contact her. I last met her in 1980 at 1 Mil.Great siteRegardsDuncan

It seems we never accomplished anything in Angola you with your foot taken in a slippery place....I was part of 16 maintenance unit ...a soldier escorting convoys all the way to Silver Porto from Grootfontein on many occasions between Dec 1975 and Jan/Feb 1976 . Everytime a truck a truck broke down we were expected to run and take cover in a bush we did not know waiting to be blown away whilst the tiffy's tried to fix the trucks on route ,,,lastly we then had to ride shotgun on a diesel/petrol train up from Lobito on the Benguela train line ,,,up the steep escarpment at a snails pace waiting to be blown away which never happened .We then after two weeks having to guard it whilst daily pumping to trucks was done to fill the underground tanks kept at the monastery abandon the train as is whilst we had to hitch a ride back to the states. A high light was being a barman at one of Jamie Ys's movies beautiful people at Grootfontein. People do not know what a civil war can do and the comfort they have or had living in in SA..For some reason I never was called to do any camps or had made contact with the 9 others who were part of that "escort defence unit" a real mix breed of English/Afrikaners .Unfortunately I but did almost lose my leg from the knee playing soccer up in Jhb lying all tied up for over 2.5 months as they battled to save it in the Mill Park hospital in around 1983.This eventually effecting my whole body.I guess it keeps one humble and the glory be to the One and only God ...regards

Thank you for that steak story, Johan! I remember when we started withdrawing from Angola in 1988, one of the Senior NCO's of the battery (no names! LOL), brought in a massive Rooiwildebees strapped across the front of the Ratel. Incredibly, it just "appeared and jumped in front of the moving Ratel", with the obvious result that the entire artillery battery's ratpack diet was about to be supplemented by some really fresh meat! No one seemd to notice the small bullethole behind the animal's ear, though! Be that as it may, the "poachers" of the battery were soon revealed as the animal was skinned and cut up in record time. We were thus able to issue every member of the battery with a huge chunk of steak, which, without salt and proper preparations, and with the animal not having been allowed to bleed out first, turned out to be rather tough and not at all as tender as we would have expected. However, it was a steak, and thoroughly enjoyed as it was, after been grilled over open fires in our shovels using every spice and soup/cooldrink powder pack from our ratpacks. It was the first fresh meat most of us had seen for almost three months! While we were demobilising at Rundu, we, the officers of the regiment, went to the Rundu Hotel with the CO for some real, well-prepared steak, of which we could not eat a quarter because our stomachs had shrunk so much!